Attend any neighborhood meeting in Bayview-Hunters Point, whether it’s put on by tenants groups, the neighborhood’s air protection program or the Hunters Point Shipyard’s citizens advisory committee, and you are bound to come face to face with Arieann Harrison. 

Harrison, the CEO of the Marie Harrison Foundation, an environmental justice nonprofit named after her mother, is a formidable opponent to anyone with a key interest in projects that could pose a health risk to her neighbors. 

That’s because Harrison has skin in the game. 

Harrison lost her mother in 2019 after a long battle with lung disease. She had never been a smoker. Although it has not been proven, Arieann Harrison blames the Hunters Point Shipyard, a toxic Superfund site where her mother worked in her youth. 

Later, as an adult, Marie Harrison tirelessly advocated throughout the 1990s for a transparent cleanup of the site, and fought on behalf of environmental concerns throughout the neighborhood.

Her efforts eventually helped lead to the closure of the Hunters Point Power Plant, which prior to 2006 spewed pollution over the neighborhood. 

“I guess you could say it’s in my DNA,” said Harrison, when asked why she decided to turn to activism herself. 

But it wasn’t an automatic calling. “I’ll be the first person to tell you,” Harrison said, sitting in Bayview’s Southeast Community Center, “I didn’t want to be nothing like my mother and father.” 

As a teenager, Harrison had a taste for rebellion. At night, she would climb out of her bedroom window and change her clothes in the dark to follow the Bayview-Hunters Point-born, all-Black heavy metal band Stone Vengeance to their next gig.

“I was an angry kid,” said Harrison, who now laughs about it. “When you’re young and carefree, you don’t give a shit about anything.” 

Harrison’s first love was for music. While following the band, she played her own music, writing lyrics and playing the keyboard in now-closed holes-in-the-wall across San Francisco and Oakland. 

“It was a wild time,” Harrison said, recalling one memory in which she dared a member of Stone Vengeance to dive headfirst — in his leather pants — into a lake in Golden Gate Park.

“It got scary fast. It was so dark, we could just hear splashing,” said Harrison. “But it was so fun, we went back the next weekend.” 

But when Harrison went to her first social-justice meeting at City College, it fit like a glove.

“I grew up in those rooms,” said Harrison, whose father was also an activist and a member of the Black Panther Party. “And I grew up with the notion that you had to do something.” 

Harrison worked as a case manager in Bayview for decades, never moving from the Hunters Point waterfront, and often taking care of her younger sisters and brothers while her mother worked to gather evidence that the U.S. Navy had botched its cleanup of the shipyard. 

When her mother died in 2019, Harrison was left with a very large shadow. Neighbors who knew her mother will often stop her in the street, including during Mission Local’s interview, exclaiming how they knew her mother.

“Hey, I know you!” called out one Bayview resident. “I knew her when she was just a little girl,” he said. “I knew her mother very well.” 

But her fear, she said, is that one day her mother will be forgotten.

“I don’t want us to just be memorialized in pictures and street names,” she said, sitting in the community center’s cafe, in which murals of community activists are plastered over the walls. “I want our children to see the fruits of all that she’s done.” 

The year after her mother died, Harrison hosted an Earth Day event. “Kids came from everywhere,” said Harrison. “There were so many kids, they covered it from the air to the ground.” 

Harrison started the Marie Harrison Foundation in 2023, working with children in Bayview and across San Francisco to teach science and environmental justice.

“I wanted to see it through,” said Harrison. “I wanted to make sure that what she started did not end without a greater outcome.” 

The foundation has also worked to pressure industries to reduce truck traffic and air pollution in the neighborhood and has worked to hold the U.S. Navy accountable at the shipyard. She’s also started a scholarship in her mother’s name. 

When she watched her kids march into City Hall and towards the mayor’s office on Earth Day in 2019, Harrison stood back, in awe.

“I almost broke inside,” said Harrison. “Someting in me broke. I just thought, this is why. It’s like my mom’s spirit was with me, and I haven’t stopped since. And I won’t stop until we get the desired outcomes that we need.” 

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There is a specific kind of joy that only a store cat can deliver. You go in for a tallboy or a bag of cat litter (the irony is not lost on anyone) and you leave having made eye contact with a sphinx asleep on the register. It costs nothing. For a few seconds, the city is just a warm animal ignoring you, and that is enough.

In 2022, the designer and transit gadfly Chris Arvin did the civic work nobody asked for and everybody needed: Arvin mapped them. “San Francisco Store Cats,” stars next to the particularly friendly ones, a polite note reminding you not to wake the sleeping ones.

Four years later, we wanted to see who was still on shift, and so did San Francisco. A single thread on r/sanfrancisco, started by a tourist hunting a bodega cat for their kid, turned into a sprawling, lovingly argued census of who is still working which counter. Arvin, the map’s own maker, showed up in the replies to admit it was overdue for a refresh. We took that as an assignment.

What follows is bigger than the original; the thread handed us dozens of cats with names and corners, so we tracked down addresses for the ones we could and sorted everyone by how sure we are. Most turned up in recent reports, this week’s thread especially, though we’re trusting those accounts rather than having staked out each counter. A few we are still taking on the 2022 map’s good word. One is gone, in a way that became, briefly, the whole city’s argument with itself. And the newest is a flower-market cat who survived a five-day catnapping the same week all of this blew up.

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On the color codes: Green (“reportedly around”) means the cat turned up in a recent account: this week’s thread, a recent review, or some other 2024-to-2026 sign. Cats are old, or wander, or get whisked off in a stranger’s Honda, so a green pin marks a recent mention, not a guarantee the cat will be there when you are. Amber means the cat was on Arvin’s 2022 map and didn’t resurface, so visit on faith. A single ember-red pin is for the one we lost.

Still on patrol, reportedly

Number Five at Grace Nursery, inside the San Francisco Flower Market, 901 16th St (Potrero Hill).

Number Five is a round-faced gray cat who has supervised the wholesale flower market for three years, the fifth pet of florist Grace Su; the name nods to the Chinese tradition of birth-order nicknames, and, she has said, to Chanel No. 5. He patrols the vendor stalls like a floor manager who suspects everyone is slacking.

In May 2026 he was scooped off the floor in the middle of the pre-Mother’s Day rush and driven across the Bay Bridge by catnappers. His admirers found him five days later, perched on a forklift in an Emeryville warehouse, and the police brought him home. He came back a little skinny and a little jumpy, but he came back.

Dogg at George’s Market, 702 14th St (Duboce Triangle).

A senior gray tabby; Arvin’s writeup and George’s regulars both call her “she.” She’s getting on in years, so she’s out front less than she used to be, but she remains a sweetheart, and people in this week’s thread were still checking in on her. There’s a tribute to her on the storefront mural.

FuFu at S&S Grocery, 1461 Grant Ave (North Beach).

A white cat with blue eyes and a job, which is lying in wait near the door to ambush passing dogs. Reviews still mention him doing exactly this, so the post appears to be filled.

Keanu at O’Looney’s Market, 588 Haight St (Lower Haight).

A goofy orange cat who guards the front in the afternoons, then heads out on neighborhood walkabouts, so he’s hit or miss. The visiting family whose post kicked off this week’s thread came looking for him and missed him; the owner tried to track him down anyway. Arvin’s map listed him as “Kiano,” but the block calls him Keanu.

We noted another kitty at this location, per Yelp.

Alex at S&A Liquor, 98 Sanchez St (Duboce Triangle).

A neighborhood favorite a half-block from Duboce Park; the kind of cat people post about just to say they love him.

Toasty & Meow Meow at Seven, 2345 Irving St (Outer Sunset).

Um this may be a couple of cats the writers of this actually saw. At least one of them. Seven is a home-goods store, not a corner store, and it still keeps a couple of very sweet cats. On Arvin’s map the pair was Toasty (who got a friendly star) and Meow Meow; the current cats may have rotated, but cats there are.

Lilly at Michaelis Wine & Spirits, 2198 Union St (Cow Hollow).

The cat of a wine and spirits shop open since 1986, which is a deeply correct place for a cat to be. She looks like she has a great time there.

Mojito at California & Lyon Market, 3100 California St (Presidio Heights).

A friendly cutie who hops onto the counter for pets, a short walk from the Presidio and the Palace of Fine Arts.

Whiskey & Tequila at New Star-Ell Liquor, 501 Divisadero St (NoPa). Whiskey is gray, Tequila is orange.

Reportedly, Tequila was briefly catnapped and came home. Neither is out front all the time, so you take your chances.

Buffy at Buffalo Whole Food & Grain, 598 Castro St (Castro).

A playful kitten, about six months old, brand new to the beat.

Not pictured but still on patrol, reportedly:

• Shadow at Randa’s Market, 3131 16th St (Mission). Reported in this week’s thread as Randa’s cat now, in the months after KitKat. Same counter, same corner.
• Cinnamon at Stewart’s Market, 2498 Sutter St (Lower Pacific Heights). A corner-grocery cat at Sutter and Broderick.
• Cookie at Oak Fair Market, 999 Oak St (Lower Haight). A tabby holding the counter on the Alamo Square edge; one thread regular went and said hi mid-conversation, then reported back.
• Tiger & Bella at Hing Fung Trading Co., 717 Vallejo St (Chinatown). Tiger is a very friendly orange cat; Bella is around too, if you’re lucky. A herb-and-dry-goods shop near Stockton.
• The Amro Market cat at 2901 Van Ness Ave (Marina). A very friendly cat at the corner of Van Ness and Chestnut.

From the 2022 map

These were on Arvin’s map and didn’t come up in this week’s thread, so we can’t promise they’re still on shift. Worth a look, but go in hopeful rather than certain.

Chucky and unnamed kitty at Flora Grubb Gardens, 3rd & Jerrold (Bayview).

The resident cat at the city’s prettiest plant nursery, which means Chucky lives somewhere that looks like a magazine spread and almost certainly does not appreciate it. On their Instagram, we’ve noticed two kitties. One is orange.

Boots at Hey Neighbor Café, 2 Burrows St (Portola).

A white-pawed cafe cat who was once pictured on the shop’s own website wearing his crown sideways, as a king does. We’ve seen mentions of shop dogs at Hey Neighbor nowadays. This Instagram post from 2022 says Boots had been traumatized.

Not pictured, but also from the 2022 map:

• The Sun Sun Trading cat at 1226 Stockton St (Chinatown). A cat among the ginseng, dried seafood, and Chinese remedies of a Chinatown trading shop. No name on record.
• Ruby at Amity Market, 3350 Taraval St (Parkside). White and button-nosed, way out where the avenues run quiet and the fog wins most arguments. A later addition to Arvin’s map.

In memoriam

KitKat at Randa’s Market, 3131 16th St (Mission).

The most famous of all of them, and the reason this map reads a little differently in 2026 than it did in 2022. KitKat was a tabby that Randa’s took in as a stray to keep the rodents down, and over six years he became the opposite of pest control: the reason people came in. Customers brought him toys, blankets, food. He was a “particularly friendly” star on Arvin’s map.

In October 2025, KitKat was killed by a Waymo outside the store. The neighborhood built a memorial at the door. For a couple of weeks he became the face of every feeling this city has been holding about robotaxis and tech and who gets a say in the streets, and then he became what he’d always been, which was a cat somebody loved. Randa’s Instagram bio still reads “Remember KitKat.” We do.

More sightings worth chasing

The Reddit thread turned up more cats than we could pin to a name and a verified address. Treat these as leads, not promises: the corner store at Central and Hayes, where someone once met a cat named Coco; Dad & Son Market at Fillmore and Lombard, said to keep two; a Chinese dry-goods store at Broadway and Stockton with three young cats; Unimart at 8th and Howard, where a mother and two kittens hang around; Larkin Corner Market, whose cat is shy about office hours; Key Food at Fillmore and Oak, which has both a cat and a dog named Major; and a maybe-cat in a corner store at 22nd and Guerrero. And one that isn’t a store at all: Lamont, who holds court at Pop’s, the 1937 dive bar at 2800 24th Street. Not a bodega cat, but a beloved one.

Saul Sugarman is editor-in-chief and owner of The Bold Italic. He is proud stepmother to a senior kitty, Xena, who is warrior princess of San Francisco’s Forest Knolls neighborhood.

The Bold Italic is a not-for-profit media organization, and we publish first-person perspectives about San Francisco and the Bay Area. We operate under a fiscal sponsorship of a 501(c)(3).

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